


pale yellow curtains and sticky notes

by makingmistakessince2003



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Eddie doesn’t come in right away, F/M, I wrote this cause I needed some Richie love, M/M, also, and Reddie also being there, minor Bill/Audra, minor Stan/Patty - Freeform, minor bev/ben, sticky notes, this is more just me loving Richie, writer’s block
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:14:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26947288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingmistakessince2003/pseuds/makingmistakessince2003
Summary: Richie likes to people watch from his window. As an impending deadline is being pushed on him and having no inspiration for it, he puts his people watching to a pause and goes out. But not without making sure to greet the person with the pale yellow curtains across the street with his sticky notes. And no, that is not a euphemism
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	pale yellow curtains and sticky notes

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome. This is my first story and I hope you enjoy it.

The light coming from the window across the street shut off at different times of the night. Sometimes it turned off as early as 11 at night. Other times they wouldn’t turn off until the sunlight made them unnecessary. And the light was always accompanied by at least one shadow. Whoever lived in that apartment lived alone, it seemed, as the shadow appeared to keep themselves in isolation. 

Yet the times the apartment was truly alive was when the light was off but the shadow had visitors. The television would illuminate the barely visible silhouettes as heads would look up towards the ceiling and let out an inaudible laugh full of pure joy. The shadow seemed to never have more than 2 friends over at a time, more than likely due to the fact that he didn’t have anyone else but them.

The curtains have been changed once since the resident of window 36 (3 rows from the bottom and 6 windows to the left) moved in 6 months ago. The first set of curtains were these plain white sheets that were more than likely bought in a haste to obtain some privacy for themselves. It didn’t take long, maybe a day or so, for the curtains to be switched out for a nice pastel yellow that, although obscured more than its previous predecessor, allowed Richie to continue seeing the shadows. The curtains were always kept drawn, at least at night, and the few times the curtain allowed the world to see into the apartment, it appeared to hold no resident. If one were paying any attention, you’d think it was a vacant apartment. But Richie knew better.

Richie liked to people watch in the times where he felt writer’s block (which he found himself in far more often than he’d tell his agent). He’d watch the building across the street and saw how the people lived their life at night. Most of them went dark by the time Richie decided to check the window. Window 27 seemed to live most of their life waking up to take care of what Richie could only assume was a baby (he’d previously seen the silhouette of a pregnant woman, but a few weeks ago she disappeared and was replaced with a new shadow being held by its mother). Window 42 seemed to be a writer, with his desk and computer right by the window, as if proving to the world that they were indeed a real writer. His computer was personalized by the small stickers on it, the only one that Richie could make out from his location as being one of a typewriter. But window 36 always seemed to be on when Richie checked in on them. Almost as if they were waiting for Richie to show up to say goodnight. 

Maybe it was that wild thinking that got Richie to build up the courage to send the person in window 36 a message in sticky notes one morning. Nothing complicated, just a simple thing that would make it obvious that he was talking to him.

_mornin to person w yellow curtains_

Although struggling to put it all on his window, Richie managed it. Deeming it clear enough for the person across the street to read, he went back to working on his show that his agent kept insisting he needed to finish in order to piggyback off the mini-comeback he had on a small set he wrote for himself a few months back.

After a few hours with no work to show for it and multiple bowls of ice cream down, Richie remembered the message he sent and went to check, excitement bubbling in him at the idea of communicating to the mystery resident with the yellow curtains. Although initially being unable to make out the message, Richie was able to see that he’d been responded to.

_Uhh, hi?_ The question mark was a little wonky, but Richie found it amusing that the person used a comma and a question mark in the first place. That interaction happened a few months ago, which snowballed into both participants making a habit out of communicating via sticky notes and snarky remarks.

Although Richie would never admit it, he developed a sort of infatuation for the person in window 36 and the comments that he shot back at Richie’s attempt at humor. He assured himself he’d never let Bev find out, not looking forward to the teasing that would meet him if he did.   
  


* * *

Although he knew his agent had a point, Richie was still royally pissed when he told him he had a deadline to meet: 10 pages on his desk by Monday morning. It was already Wednesday. When Richie tried to, once again, get an extension for this workload he was met with no sympathy. Once he explained he felt uninspired, he was ordered to go out more often to actually get material to write on. And so, reluctantly, that’s how Richie managed to find himself in a dog park with Beverly, even though neither of them owned a dog.

“So tell me Richard, how are the pages for that new show coming along?” She asked. He let out a groan of frustration that would be evident for anyone to understand that his pages were not coming along well. Beverly gave a chuckle and she ran her hand through his hair. They were loitering on a bench that he was too big to lay down on, but that small design flaw did not deter him from attempting to lay his head on Bev’s lap.

“Sweet sweet Marsh, can we not focus on my job and instead shift our attention to that hot piece of ass that has been checking you out for the past 5 minutes?” This rather lame attempt to distract from his current predicament would actually come to benefit Richie in a few days when inspiration hits him and he begins writing about it in his show. But alas, current Richie did not know that, and instead, he continued to wallow in the self-pity that did seem to be alleviating him as he checked out the tall man with a golden retriever in tow. 

Richie looked up in order to see his friend’s reaction and, as expected, she was unamused. He understood her lack of enthusiasm as all her past relationships had seemed to involve a terrible partner on the other end. These terrible experiences culminated into her worst boyfriend, Tom, who turned out to be, in Richie’s professional opinion, a low life piece of shit that deserved nothing more than to get run over by a used Honda. That relationship led to Bev deciding she would swear off any attempt to meet a nice person for her and instead would spend the rest of her life as a single woman with him at her side.

So it was a complete shock to no one but the other man when Beverly asked the stranger what, quote-unquote, his fucking problem with them was. This caused him to widen his eyes in shock and approach them. Richie sat up next to Bev, ready for any conflict that may arise from Bev’s lack of filter. Yet when he finally got close enough, Richie realized two things. One, this man was way more muscular than he initially anticipated and he’d have no chance in taking him in a fight if one broke out, which seemed unlikely now as two, he seemed to actually look embarrassed and blushing as he finally stood in front of them.

“I’m so sorry if I gave you the wrong impression! I didn’t mean to offend you by staring, I just thought I recognized your friend here from somewhere, and finally seeing him up close I realized he was Richie Tozier! I’m a fan of some of your recent work but didn’t want to approach two strangers in the chance that it wasn’t you.” The man, who they would find out was named Ben, explained. This interaction seemed to throw Bev for a loop as she sheepishly apologized for yelling at him unprompted.

“I’m so sorry, I thought you were being a creep and just checking me out. Now I feel like I’ve made a fool of myself as my first impression,” she told him, which gave Richie an opportunity to be shocked. In all the time that Richie knew Beverly Marsh, she had only apologized to him once. And that apology only happened because she walked in on him masturbating in his room without knocking. That incident also led to her forcing the sock-on-the-doorknob rule, even though she didn’t even live in his apartment.

Yet this apology came unwarranted and completely by surprise. She’s addressed countless other men she’s caught staring at her the same way and she’s never apologized to them, even when they attempted to come up with some half-ass excuse for themselves. This new turn of events brought Richie’s attention to his friend’s cheeks, which he saw a slight blush start to form. To the untrained eye, one would just write it off as the heat of the summer making her gain color, but for a best friend like Richie, it indicated that Ben had piqued Bev’s interest.

“Well Ben, I have to say that if you wanted to ask me out, you could’ve just come out and said it. I don’t bite,” he paused for dramatic effect, “unless you like that.” He threw an obnoxious wink and finger guns at him, making it clear that he was joking and not actually asking him out. He was a handsome man, sure, but definitely not Richie’s type.

This seemed to allow Ben to relax a bit as he let out a laugh just in time for his dog to jump onto Beverly. Bev made no attempt to make the dog get off of her, opting instead to ruffle his fur as she made little noises at her. This caused Ben to tilt his head in confusion.

“What’s wrong, Ben? Surprised that your dog here likes other people?” Bev asked as she got attacked by sloppy kisses. Ben shook his head and began to explain.

“It’s not that, Lucy just doesn’t usually act so forward. She’s a rescue, so she’s usually very cautious around new people. When I adopted her they explained that she was taken from a neglectful and abusive home. I apparently was one of the first few people she willingly approached since she had come in. She’s not hostile or anything, but people usually expect golden retrievers to be more playful so they decide to overlook her when it came to adopting. But this little lady really captured my heart so I decided I just had to make her my companion.”

“Oh,” was all Bev could say at that small story. Although she initially seemed to think of something, she quickly snapped out of it and instead opted to get up, causing both Richie and Lucy to follow her movement. Lucy in excitement and Richie in protest as his head hit the seat. Before Ben could say anything, Bev quickly reached for Lucy’s toy and started running, Lucy hot on her heels. “C’mon Ben, don’t tell me those muscles are all display!’

This seemed to cause Ben himself to snap out of whatever he was thinking and allow his legs to start moving again. After a while, he caught up to both of them and began throwing the toy for Lucy while making conversation with Bev. At one point, Lucy ran at them at maximum speed and threw herself at Bev, causing her to fall onto Ben and leading to what felt like a scene straight out of a fucking rom-com. They quickly separated but stayed on the ground, their awkward laughter turning genuine when Lucy laid across both of them as a form of rest.

Richie, deciding he had become a third wheel, turned around and began walking away. But before going too far, he turned around at the sound of his name to see both Bev and Ben looking at him. “Where you heading, man?” Ben asked him. Richie looked past him towards Bev, who began getting distracted when Lucy began licking her palm.

“There’s a coffee shop around the corner and I got some pages for my next show due in a few days, so it’s best I find a quiet place to concentrate.”

“Do you want me to come with you, Rich?” He looked over at Bev and noticed how she looked more relaxed around a person than she had been in a long time. He shrugged and shook his head.

“Nah, it’s all good. It’ll probably help if I didn’t have my best girl distracting me and all. Oh, and you and Ben too, I guess” She gave him a look and threw him the middle finger. He only laughed at that and stuck out his tongue. 

“Alright, I’ll catch up with you later. Deal?” She asked. Knowing he’d need an update on Ben once he left, he saluted at her and blew her a kiss.

“Aye Aye, Ms. Marsh! I’ll hold you to that. Nice meeting you, Benjamin! Bye-bye Lucile!” He said, making sure to include their new acquaintances in his goodbye. Ben smiled and waved, and just for good measure, grabbed Lucy’s paw and made her wave at him too. If he was worried about Ben being dangerous, his anxiety decreased at that action immediately. So he walked away from the sound of his best friend laughing and mentally wished for her to get a day she deserved.

* * *

After a quick detour back home for his computer, he entered the coffee shop he had told Bev he was attending. The little bell alerted only the employees that he’d entered, as the other customers of the coffee shop did not look up from their computers. This was par for the course in this particular establishment, which was known as a quiet location for writers and college students alike to find a place to concentrate. 

As he waited in line for his turn to place his order, he looked around and observed all the people sitting around. Although initially uninterested due to the sheer normalness of all the people in the shop, his eyes lingered on a certain person that felt familiar to him. It wasn’t until he looked onto the man’s computer that he was finally able to identify a sticker of a typewriter that he’s spent too much time staring at. Richie got excited at the prospect of finally confirming one of his deductions, seeing as the man was in a cafe known for benign popular with writers.

Before Richie could decide if he wanted to go up and introduce himself to the guy, his decision was made for him as the man stood up and got in line behind him. There was a bit of tension on Richie’s part, not knowing if the man caught him staring and if it would be appropriate to attempt to talk to him. Thankfully, that tension was momentarily paused as it was Richie’s turn to order (he went with a black coffee that he’d add a shit ton of sugar packets to later).

As Richie went to grab his wallet, the man behind him stopped him and greeted the cashier. “Add it onto my tab, and I’ll have another cappuccino. Thank you, Martha.” She gave him a nod and added his order onto Richie’s, turning away before Richie could protest to anyone. 

“Thanks, but you didn’t have to do that, you know,” Richie said to him, seeing as that was the only thing he could think of at that moment. The man shrugged it off, not seeing it to be a big deal since Richie’s order wasn’t much. 

“No it’s fine, honestly. My name’s Bill,” he said, extending his hand for a handshake. Richie, seeing it would be rude for him not to take it since the man bought him his coffee, shook it and gave him a smile. Before he could introduce himself, their order was ready as they called out their names. Bill motioned for Richie to join him at his table, so both men sat down at the circular table as Bill closed his laptop. 

“So Bill, why’d you buy lil old me a coffee?” Richie was genuinely curious as to why, finding it very coincidental that the man he’d been discretely watching for the past few months paid for his coffee. Or at least, he thought it was discrete until Bill began explaining. 

“I’m waiting for a friend of mine to show up so I thought it would be good to have some company as I waited.”Before Richie assured himself he was all in the clear, Bill caught him off guard with what he said next. “And I recognized you. You live in the building across the street from mine. I’ve seen you looking out of your window before.” Bill, apparently noticing the way Richie tensed up, waved him off, attempting to convey to Richie to calm down. “No no, I’m not here to attack you or anything, I’ve just seen you and thought it would be nice to get to know you.” Richie relaxed at that and nodded, relieved that he was not getting accosted for his window viewing.

“Oh good, cause I thought you were about to come on behalf of your apartment complex or something and label me a perv. Which I’m not!” He quickly assured him, wanting to make sure Bill knew that his observing is innocent, for the most part. “So Bill, what do you want to know about me?” He gave it a momentary thought and decided to go with the logical question.

“Why _do_ you watch the windows of my apartment complex?” Richie knew the answer to that question but faked a show of pondering by putting on a face and putting his finger under his chin.

“Well, I’m a ‘comedian.” He put air quotes around comedian because, even after all these years in his line of work, he never truly felt like he was one until recently when he began writing his own material. Although he didn’t mention it, he noticed the careful way that Ben mentioned he was a fan of Richie’s “recent work,” implying that he wasn’t a fan of Richie, pre-breakdown. He didn’t blame the man, seeing as he wasn’t even a fan of himself. “And as you writer types know, we get deadlines that we have to meet in order to keep a job. I’ve been in kind of a rut recently, a writer’s block of sorts, and it helps to be able to see everyone else live their lives without the pause I feel when having to come up with something to write.” Bill nodded along to what he said, no doubt understanding what Richie meant when it came to writing.

“Makes sense. I also do that sometimes in my free time if my girlfriend, Audra, isn’t around to talk to. Although your apartment windows are far less interesting than mine, I bet. The few neighbors that I’ve met seem to be interesting characters.” Richie nodded in agreement, and before he could stop himself from revealing himself to this stranger, began on a tangent.

“Oh yeah, definitely. I number your windows as a way of identifying the people in there to keep track of what I’ve seen.” Richie closed his eyes in embarrassment, no doubt in his mind that Bill was about to call the cops on him for oversharing. Instead, Richie opened his eyes to a laughing Bill.

“There’s like, 60 windows. I’m impressed that you managed to keep track of so many. What number am I?” He seemed to genuinely mean what he was saying to Richie, which encouraged him to share even more about his system and what he’s seen.

He talks about how his window was one of the few that consistently kept his curtains open and that he had recognized it was him by his stickers. He talked about Window 53 and how he was sure that that apartment was haunted because of the way he’s never seen anyone live there but had noticed shadows moving around inside. He mentioned some of his favorites, like Bill’s. Or the family in 27 that he always felt a pang of longing when staring at it, especially when he saw a head of curls that felt familiar to him yet he could never quite place why.

Although Richie should’ve seen it coming, Bill asked him a question that made him want to bury his head in the sand. “So what number are you writing those messages to?” Although Richie should’ve realized that other people could see his messages, he didn’t think others cared enough to pay attention to his window. He should’ve realized Bill was different, seeing as he noticed Richie staring at him before.

“Oh, window 36. We started writing small messages to each other one day and just never stopped.” Richie paused, coming to decide that he needed to tell someone about window 36, seeing as he couldn’t tell Bev, partly in fear of a conversation about his emotions and partly in fear of getting made fun of. “It’s kind of gotten a little farther than initially expected, and now I may, sort of, kind of, maybe, like the person that resides behind those cute yellow curtains they chose. Also, please don’t mention any of that to Bev because I don’t want to have a whole talk with her.” Bill blinked at him, more than likely attempting to take in all the information Richie had thrown at him.

“Yellow curtains, you said?” Now it was Richie’s turn to blink at Bill, confused that he focused on that from what he said.

“Really, that’s what you got out of my declaration of love? Billiam, get your priorities checked.” Richie tisked at him in mock disapproval.

Before Bill had a chance to finish his thoughts, they heard the jingle of the door’s bell ring that caused both of them to turn around and find Bev and Ben entering the shop. Noticing Beverly searching the shop in what he could only assume was for him, Richie waved his hand. That motion caught her attention as she smiled at him, grabbing Ben’s arm to move him towards Richie and Bill. Before Richie could even get the chance to introduce his new friend, Bill beat him to it.

“Ben! Took you long enough. When I called, you said you were just gonna head back home to drop off Lucy.” Ben smiled sheepishly at that and shrugged, simply looking at Bev and saying he got distracted.

“Anyways Bill, how do you know Richie? You didn’t mention we were meeting anyone here.” Ben looked questioningly at Bill, and Bev looked at me questioningly too, surprised to see me with someone else when I hadn’t mentioned it. Richie wondered what explanation he was gonna give Ben; If he was going to cover up how Richie is a low key creep or if he was just gonna give a white lie. Unfortunately for Richie, it was not the latter

“Well Ben, remember how I mentioned to you that one guy that lived across the street from me? The one that I’ve caught staring out his window at me? Well,” Bill put his arm around Richie, “this is him!” He didn’t say it in a way that sounded at all bothered. In fact, it sounded to Richie like Bill found his discovery of him one to be proud of.

Ben looked between the two of them and shook his head and looked down in mock disappointment in Bill. Richie said mock because it was very obvious that Ben was smiling at his friend’s antics, clearly used to this behavior from Bill. “Alright, with that introduction settled, this is Beverly Marsh,” he pointed at Bev, who gave Bill a wide smile and extended her hand for a greeting, which Bill answered with a smile of his own, ”a friend I made along with Richie, with a little help from Lucy.” Bill gave Richie a silent look for confirmation, _This the Bev you want me to be careful about?_ Richie gave him a small nod that Bill reciprocated. They attempted to be subtle about it, which they ended up seeing was unnecessary as the other two parties were looking at each other, partly ignoring their silent conversation.

“Don’t get it twisted, I only stayed for her, not you,” Bev told Ben, saying it in a serious voice that’s impact was dulled with the laugh that followed it. They both pulled up chairs, Bev turning to Richie and latching on to what Bill had mentioned earlier. “ Richard, please enlighten Ben and I in the stalking you’ve been dabbling in, according to Bill over here.” With a sigh, Richie began his tales of all the windows of Bill’s apartment complex, that he could see from his side, as their two new acquaintances, no, friends listened on without judgment.

Although Bill added his own bits of commentary, he kept what Richie told him out of the conversation. And Richie was grateful for that.

* * *

  
Richie and Beverly spent the rest of their day in that coffee shop talking to Ben and Bill. They filled each other in on embarrassing stories for each other, both pair going as far back in their friendships as freshman year of college. But that, unfortunately, meant that Richie got no work done in the very place he went to get work done. Yet looking back on the previous day, he does not regret it one bit, having not only met two new friends (they had plans to meet again on Monday), but it seemed like there was some real chemistry between Ben and Bev.

And so the next day, Richie decided that if he wasn’t going to be productive when it came to his deadline, he could at least be productive in another way- laundry day. So at 10 in the morning, Richie woke up to fill his laundry bags with dirty clothes and went down the street to the laundromat that overcharged for tide pods.

Richie entered the shop and located an unused washing machine, deciding to not pay attention to the other poor saps that had to be stuck here at 10:26 AM with him. Richie, deciding he had no energy to sort through all his clothes, dumped his bag with a colorful range of clothing into the washer. But before he was able to dump his other bags in the same way as the previous one, he heard a small child’s voice behind him.

“You know, sir, you’re supposed to separate the clothes so they don’t get ruined.” Before Richie could even get a word into the kid behind him, he spun around and froze in his tracks. He was a young-looking kid, probably no older than 6. What surprised Richie was that the kid looked _exactly_ like a childhood friend of his. And so he couldn’t be blamed by the way Richie reacted in shock and spoke to him

“What the fuck, Stanley Urine?” The kid widen his eyes, no doubt in shock at the language that Richie choose to use. That conclusion was confirmed by the way he called for his dad, saying how the man used a grown-up word. That’s when a man stood up from the other row over, probably to ask the hobo why he talked to his son in that manner, when his eyes met Richie and widened in the same manner as the child’s had.

“Holy shit, Trashmouth Tozier?” The man, who Richie was able to identify as his friend Stanley Uris, give or take a few years, walked over to him, son in tow. Giving each other a good once over, they decided the best thing to say was a long-overdue hug.

“Hey Stanley, how you been? How’d you manage to clone yourself?” Richie said, pointing at Stan’s son. This got a laugh and an eye roll out of his, the same way it always did when it came to Stan and Richie, yet this time it came with the same reaction from his son.

“I’ve been good, Rich. You’ve sort of met Miles here, shake his hand,” Miles shook his hand, now that his dad has assured him that the man wasn’t a bad dude, “and I’ve got a recent unpregnant wife, Patty, at home with a baby girl, Isabella.” Richie was shocked to hear that Stan not only got married but had two kids already.

“Wow, Stan the man, you actually managed to get laid. Twice! What a shocker. If only Wendy from homecoming could see you now.” This earned him a punch on the arm and a shush, motioning to him the child that was still in their presence.

“Let’s refrain from that language in front of the ildchay.” Richie and Miles gave Stan a look, one in protest and the other in Richie.

“Please Stan, we said worst stuff since we were in diapers together. This child will remain too sheltered his whole life.” Stan gave him a flat look and shook his head.

“He won’t be sheltered! And the only reason I ever said such foul things was because I had you as a best friend growing up.” Richie gave a gasp of offense and raised his hand to touch his heart.

“I take offense to that accusation. You corrupted me! Before I met you, they called me Recyclingmouth Tozier. You’ll probably corrupt my poor angel children if I ever have any, turn them against their innocent pops that way.” Stan narrowed his eyes at me, pausing for a brief moment to put a hand in front of his son’s eyes as he gave him the finger. Miles shook off his father’s hand and gave stan a pouty face, no doubt one that has managed to get him out of trouble in the past. 

“Dad, you know he was trying to pile all his clothes into one machine? I tried warning him and telling him what you told me, but he wouldn’t listen.” Stan laughed at that and gave him a shrug. 

“Nice try kid, but he’s been washing his clothes that way since I’ve known him. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” At that, they all turned as the washers in the area that Stan was in went off, indicating their run time had finished. “Hold on a minute while I put these in the dryer, I want to keep catching up.” Richie nodded in acknowledgment, deciding that he needed to get started on his laundry if he wanted to finish by the end of the day. Since it wasn’t much that Richie had to clean, he managed to finish before Stan and offer him a hand. Once they were done loading the dryers and starting them, the began putting the clothing that had to air dry on hangers as the continued to chat. 

“So what about you? What have you been up to?”

“Well, I fulfilled my lifelong dream of becoming a stand up comic.” Stan nodded along as Richie told him about his career and how he started off in open mic nights in college. Apparently Stan had been keeping up a bit with Richie’s career, as he was not surprised when he mentioned his breakdown on stage, instead opting for the caring friend approach and making sure he was doing better.

“Let me tell you, it was a relief to hear you were taking some time to work on yourself. Your comeback last year during that charity event was the best material you had. I managed to get through it all with just minor eye rolls.” Richie nodded, once again understanding how his old material, for lack of a better word, sucked. And as always, Stan was never too embarrassed to tell him the truth to his face. “I gotta be honest Richie, I kept up with you because you were my friend, but I just could not get through any of your sets. Like, your first ones were pretty funny, reminded me of us before college, and how you’d try bits on me and I’d pretend to hate it but secretly found you amusing. But the newer ones, mostly the big-budget specials on Netflix and stuff, sucked. But I was so proud of the charity one.” He paused and looked over at Richie, a little pride peaking through Stan’s tough exterior. “I even showed it to Patty and proudly boasted how we were friends growing up.”

As Richie repeated to himself to not cry at Stan’s sincerity, he heard his washer go off and quickly got up, trying to make sure Stan didn’t see how much his words affected him. He mumbled a quick thanks as he quickly shuffled towards his machines, hoping Stan didn’t take his sudden departure as him taking offense from what he told him. But of course, Stan knew better. While Richie transferred his clothes from the washer to the dryer (he didn’t airdry anything), he looked up to see Stan playing around with Miles, looking up for a second to shoot Richie a smile, and going back to his son. Of course Stan knew that he wasn’t offended by what he said because he was Stan.

Although Bev had been proud of him when he did that charity special, hearing those words from Stan made him feel different. Coming from someone like him, that knew Richie better than he knew himself, helped him fully realize the difference he made in his life and career.

Putting the last of his change into the machine, he walked over to Stan and gave the man a hug. Although initially stiff, Stan decided to hug him back and give him a pat on the back as they separated from each other. Richie definitely had tears in his eyes at that point, but so did Stan. So they stayed at that laundromat even after Stan’s loads were done. Richie helped Miles fold his clothes and in return, Miles shared his gummy worms with him. Stan waited for Richie to load up all his clean clothes into his bags (“Aren’t you going to fold your clothes?” Stan gave his son a look. ”He’s never done that before, and he won’t start today”). And they talked together, neither of them realizing until they were in front of a familiar building that they had made it home.

“You wanna come inside? I’m sure Patty would love to meet you.” Richie thought about it for a moment and nodded. They walked up the flight of stairs (“Really Richie, you can’t be _that_ out of shape!”) until they made it in front of an apartment labeled 27. Yet if Richie wasn’t as dense as he was, he would’ve connected the clues already. But alas, Richie did not and instead entered the apartment as Stan announced that they had arrived. Stan told him to make himself at home as he and Miles went to put the laundry up in their respective rooms.

Richie looked around at the photos framed around the home, most of them of the happy family in different stages of their lives. The day Isabella was born, the day Miles was born, Stan and Patty’s wedding. That one really stung Richie as he wished he had attended, longing to be a part of the years he had missed of Stan. Before he could check out the photos with the wedding party, a photo caught his eye. Particularly one that he had a copy of sitting on his shelf back at his place: a picture of two 12-year-olds in baby blue tuxedos.

“You know, I remember hating you for making me wear that ugly thing, but looking back, it was appropriate for the label all our classmates gave us.” Stan was now behind him, looking over Richie’s shoulder to make sure he was looking at the picture he was describing. Richie smiled at that memory and sighed wistfully.

“I remember Stanny. We were hot commodity back then, and we couldn’t have the ladies swooning too hard at us.” This caused a chuckle from another person in the room- Patty Uris.

“Well, I thank you for that, Richie. Couldn’t have him be taken off the market before I even had a chance to shop now, could we.” She gave him a warm smile and extended her hand to greet him. Richie was initially hesitant to shake it back. Not because of anything she said, but because of the baby in her arms. “My name’s Patty. And this little thing right here is Isabella.” Richie was in awe of such a small thing being real, but here she was in all her glory. Richie, for what felt like the billionth time that day, teared up at the sight of her, causing both Stan and Patty to chuckle.

“She’s so pretty. I mean, she doesn’t really look like anything yet, but she’s a real looker, just like her mother.” Patty chuckled at that and shushed him. Then came the dreaded question that always came with babies.

“Do you want to hold her?” Patty asked him. This shocked Richie as they had just met and this woman just offered him any responsibility around her baby. Yet Richie nodded tentatively as he went to go wash his hands in the nearest sink (the kitchen). Once they made sure to give him a crash course on how to hold a baby, they handed her to him. He made sure he was holding her right before even deciding to breathe out. After about a minute of standing still, he finally felt calm enough to make a movement. So he walked around the room a bit, under mommy and daddy supervision, until he made a stop in front of the window. He rocked the baby as he looked out of it, partaking in his favorite pastime with Isabella.

“You know Stanley, I think Izzy here might replace you as my favorite Uris.” Stan laughed at that as he walked towards him, stopping next to him to see out the window too. As they stood there, enjoying each other’s company, Richie saw as the sun went down and the lights turned on in the building across the street. 

“How was your wedding?” Richie asked, wanting to know more about this life-changing event that he hadn’t been a part of. Although he had no right to feel it, Richie felt a bit bitter that he couldn’t attend the event. Growing up, they’d always promised each other that they’d be each other’s best men if they ever got married. And that question was thinly veiled with the first one. With anyone else, they might have answered with a normal response of the venue and stuff, but not Stan. Stan knew what Richie was asking.

“I only had groomsmen. Although it felt silly, I couldn’t have a best man if it wasn’t you.” Stan looked at him and gave him a small smile.

Richie nodded, his body deciding he was dehydrated enough that he wouldn’t survive if he teared up again. He went back to staring out the window. Finally, after an embarrassingly long time, it hit him. “Holy shit.”

“What’s up?” Stan asked him worriedly, looking between Richie and his daughter.

“Stan, you see that apartment with those neon green curtains? The one that says _‘mornin cutie’_ with the heart.” Syan looked at him confused but nodded in confirmation once he spotted them.

“Oh yeah, Patty and I have made fun of them before because of how much of an eyesore they are. Especially with those weird messages and the su-” Richie shushed him.

“Stan, that’s my apartment. I live there.” Stan looked at him, as if not quite grasping what Richie meant. Until finally it hit him and he started laughing, causing Richie to follow suit. 

“I can’t believe we’ve been living on the same street this whole time without a clue.” Richie nodded in agreement at that moment. It wasn’t until he got home and stared onto window 27 that he remembered the feeling of familiarity whenever he looked at it. Until he saw Stan, standing in the same place he left him but now with his arms wrapped around his wife and daughter. They all gave him a wave as they closed the curtain and turned off the light.

Richie knew at that moment that he may have had a small clue of who window 27 was after all.

* * *

  
Richie woke up Friday morning (afternoon) with one goal in mind. He got ready and walked over to the nearest office supply store. Finding what he was looking for, he paid for his purchase and returned home. Writing down his short message in order to get it right, he replicated it, backwards of course, onto his close window. 

_Morning, Assholes!_

He hoped either Stan or Bill would find it and respond in their own way, knowing window 36 would answer. They always did. Bill and Ben mentioned how people in their dorms would often communicate via sticky notes when bored, and he had a vague recollection of people on his campus doing it too, which lead him to the idea in the first place. Knowing that it would probably take time for them to respond, Richie shoved his computer and his bag of pistachios into his backpack and head out into the unknown.

He started walking towards the opposite direction of the cafe he had previously been in when he had met Bill. Instead, he began heading to one that was farther from his apartment. One that he didn’t usually attend because of the closeness of the other coffee shop. He walked for about 15 minutes until he made it to his destination.

_Mikey’s cafe and bar_

You see, Richie concluded that the quiet he kept attempting to work in was the thing keeping him from working. He thrived off of chaos, so the logical step would be to go to a bar. But he felt that a normal bar would yield the same results as a quiet location, so instead, he opted to go to this in-between local, having been recommended it by Ben who knew the man who owned the place.

Richie entered the place and managed to find a somewhat isolated spot from everyone else at a small table. He pulled out his laptop to begin working. Or at least, attempted to. He stared at his computer screen for about 5 minutes until he couldn’t stand the constant nothing he was producing. He ordered his usual coffee order and did his usual process of adding the sugar.

The man that brought him his coffee looked at Richie with amusement. “You know we could add sugar for you, right? Or some kind of sweetener for you to give it a different taste?” The man pointed towards the side of the drink station that was making the coffee. More specifically, he was pointing towards the part with the containers marked with the flavored syrups. Richie looked at him and shook his head.

“Sorry, no can do. I’m not much of a fan of that and it’s less likely someone can ruin my order when it only requires the bean juice.” The waiter nodded and returned back to his job, much to Richie’s dismay as he had to return to the screen. As he started writing the easiest parts of his show (his intro and closure), he thought back to what Ben had told him a few days ago.

_Their little group tried to keep quiet in the cafe, making sure not to disturb the other patrons of the establishment and to keep themselves from being kicked out. Yet Richie was not helping the situation as he continued to make his jokes in an attempt to try out certain material for his show._

_After the group quieted down, Ben turned to him. “I don’t know why you’re struggling so much coming up with material. You’re a natural at making people laugh!” Bill and Bev nodded in agreement with him, both knowing first-hand that when Richie didn’t try too hard, he was genuinely funny. Although flattered with the compliment, Richie couldn’t agree with it._

_“This ‘on the fly’ material I’m throwing at you isn’t the same as a script that I have to perform for hundreds of people, especially as they’re expecting a lot from me as my official comeback tour or whatever. I want this show to be more personal while still respecting boundaries, ya know?” They nodded, understanding the importance of this show for him._

_As the group exchanged contact information (“I know where you live Big Bill, so you can’t ignore me! That goes for you too, Benny!”), Bill pulled him aside as they gave Ben and Bev a moment together. It was probably unnecessary though because those two didn’t even seem to notice the difference after they moved away._

_“I know it might end up being useless, but a tip I’ve always been told to use is to just start writing. Writing something as simple as what you did that day could end up becoming useful. It might seem silly at first, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.”_

And so, Richie did just that. He wrote down whatever he could from the last few days, including more details when it came to talking about meeting friends, new and old. Although initially feeling silly as Bill warned him he’d feel, he eventually grew to like the process increasingly more. After writing more in that while than he had in the last few months, Richie decided to call it quits as he went back home, waving goodbye to the waiter and leaving him a tip.

The trek back home was an uneventful one, to Richie’s dismay. He wanted to have something to write about, even if it was just a short tale of a dog pissing on his leg because he mistook him for a tree or something. 

When Richie got home he decided he was in no mood to cook and instead poured himself a bowl of Coco Puffs. As he went to go sit down in front of the window, he remembered the message he had made with the sticky notes for all the people across the street. Richie looked at their windows and managed to make out two messages in their respective panes.

On Bill’s window, he just put _Richie_ in green sticky notes inside of what he could only assume was a shitty attempt of a middle finger in white sticky notes. He’d be impressed if it didn’t look like an oval with a stick coming from it. Richie took a low rez, zoomed-in photo of the “artwork”, sending it to the group chat they had made yesterday that included Ben and Bev.

_This is how Big Bill shows his love. Thank you <3 _

On Stan’s window, he could also see the use of two different colors, pink and pale yellow usually associated with sticky notes. On the bottom window pane was a message, clearly from Stan, that said _The kids!_ On the top pane, however, was a message from Patty that said _Hi!- P, M, I_. Patty, Miles, and Isabella.

He also took a picture of it and sent it to Stan, making sure to tell him he’s in last place as his favorite Uris. But as an afterthought, he told him to tell the rest of his family thank you on his behalf. Not long after, Stan sent a picture of all of them at dinner with the caption _Tell them yourself, coward_. Richie sent a heart and let it be.

It wasn’t until he was eating his cereal that he noticed the sticky notes on window 36. They’d always answered him, but the message in this one was surprising.

_“ASSHOLES” you cheating on me?_

Richie, although initially shocked by the message, couldn’t help but read into what he said. The person implied cheating as if they also valued the small interactions going between them. But before Richie could even think further about the implications, the person in the apartment, almost as if they could feel Richie staring, moved the curtain and revealed themselves to Richie for the first time since they started talking to each other. They both froze as they realized they were both looking at each other. Yet the other man quickly disappeared behind his curtains once again as Richie stood frozen, finally putting a face to window 36. 

* * *

Richie deemed his first trip to _Mikey’s_ enough of a success to return the next day. He sat down at the bar instead of a table, finding the people working at the place to have a welcoming aura. 

As he kept attempting to fit some jokes together, he closed his laptop in frustration and put his head down. This caught the attention of the bartender, that was also the waiter that served him the other day, as he chuckled at Richie’s antics. “Having a hard time finishing work? Cause the people that usually sit at this bar come to escape it.” Richie raised his head and looked over at his nametag.

“Well, Mikey Mike, I’ll have you know that I specifically got recommended to come here by a friend to get work done. You might know him, Ben Hanscom?” Mike nodded for a moment, then snapped his fingers in remembrance.

“And you must be Richie. Well, I assume that you’re either Richie or Bev, but I doubt you’re what Ben referred to as “one of the most beautiful girls in the world.”’ Richie fanned his face.

“Benny boy really said that about little ole’ me? He’s such a romantic. Can’t wait to lock that boy up with a ring to make sure he can’t escape!” Mike chuckled and shook his head.

“But yeah, Ben mentioned that he’d given me some free publicity to a few new friends. He mostly warned that I should treat Bev nicely if she ever came around and warned me about you.” Richie nodded, very aware of the effect he had on people. “So you’re here to get some work done, you say?”

“Yep. Every time I try to try to start working on my script, I seem to get distracted. Like, I met Ben and Bill a few days ago and Bill gave me some tips to get me to write something. It’s mostly about what I’ve done or whatever. According to Bill, this shit’s gonna be useful at some point in my life.” Mike slowly nodded and went to get Richie another coffee.

Once he returned with extra sugar packets, he stayed to watch Richie suffer. Perhaps taking pity on his poor soul, he motioned for his computer. “Can I read what you have? Maybe a fresh set of eyes is what you need.” Richie gave it a thought and shrugged.

“Sure, I’m up for anything at this point.” He handed over his laptop to this almost stranger, feeling an unexplainable trust for him. Richie didn’t know what to do while Mike read through the nonsense he wrote, opting to occasionally sip his coffee while he watched the other patrons live their lives, perhaps with their own deadlines looming over their heads but leaving it at home instead of bringing it here with them. Deciding the awkwardness of just sitting there unbearable, he excused himself to the bathroom.

Once he figured he gave Mike enough time to finish reading what he had written, he exited the bathroom and went back to his seat. At least, he would have if it wasn’t for the man in his seat talking to Mike. Before Richie could tell the guy to move, Mike spotted him and began introducing.

“Ah, this is who I was just telling you about. Richie, meet my friend Eddie. Eddie, Richie.” Richie, ready to say some dumb line to this new person, froze once again at the sight of the owner of the yellow curtains. The man he’d been communicating with, Eddie, also froze. Mike, looking between the two of them, tried piecing together why they weren’t saying anything. “Do you two know each other?” That statement seemed to break them out of whatever happened to them as they looked back at Mike, Eddie coughing while Richie scratched the back of his neck. 

“Yeah.” Mike nodded and attempted to tell him something, no doubt feedback about what he had read, but was called away by other customers. This left the sort of strangers by themselves, not knowing whether to wait for Mike to return or not. But Richie, never knowing when to shut up even when it was good for him, chose not to say anything at all and started to pack up his things. “Tell Mike he can give me a call about any feedback he has for me.”

“W-where are you going?” Eddie could do nothing but look at him as Richie got the last of his things and left one of his business cards on the table.

“Somewhere. Anywhere but here.” 

“Rich, don’t go.” He tried grabbing Richie’s arm but he pulled it away from him.”

“Don’t. It’s been a year, please don’t make it more difficult than it has to be.” He didn’t know if he could last long in his presence without crying, but he just knew he couldn’t cry in front of him. He couldn’t cry in front of the man who left him. The man who broke his heart.

* * *

_“You know, I kind of like you,” Eddie told Richie, who let out a laugh as he squeezed the other man he had wrapped around in his arms._

_Richie had come over to Eddie’s apartment in order to watch a moive. Yet they focused less on the movie and more on each other, ending the night in Eddie’s bed in the same fashion they always did._

_“You don’t say. You know I’m only using you to get to your mom, right?’ Eddie rolled his eyes and tried leaving Richie’s arms, but instead, Richie let out a chorus of no’s as he held onto him tighter. “I’m kidding. You’re the only Kaspbrak I’ll ever love.” To emphasize his point, Richie peppered Eddie’s face with kisses as he let out a small laugh. “And I do love you, you know. You’re the big romance I’ve been waiting for my whole life for. When I think back to my life, a depressed closeted boy, the only thing that kept me going was thinking that one day I would find another person to love me the same way I loved them. And you’re it for me, Eds. You’re my love.” Eddie sniffled a bit and gave him a kiss that would end up being their last._

_“That was the perfect way to say goodbye.” Richie froze at those words._

_“What do you mean ‘goodbye’? After all that, after I told you all that, you’re still leaving for London? Did you really just pull a Rachel on me?”_

_“Richie, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I have to go. Even if it means leaving-”_

_“Me. Even if it means leaving me.” Eddie didn’t meet his eyes, guilt keeping him from saying much more. “I should’ve known I don’t mean the same to you as you meant to me, Eds.” Eddie let out a sharp gasp and shook his head definitively._

_“Don’t say that. Rich, I lov-” Richie cut him off. At this point, both men were tearing up at the exchange going on between them, understanding that it won’t end pleasantly between them. Richie let go of the other man as he started putting his clothes back on._

_“Don’t. Don’t make this more painful. Don’t make me miss you. You already hurt me enough by letting me love you.” Richie finished up putting on the rest of his clothes in silence, neither of the men daring to say another word in fear of irreparable damage._

_And so Richie walked out of the apartment and closed the door, waiting, hoping, needing Eddie to stop him. He needed reassurance that Eddie loved him as much as he loved Eddie. But as he walked down the stairs and got into his car, Eddie did nothing to stop him. The last Richie saw of him was his face staring down at him from in between those pale yellow curtains. Ones that Richie helped pick out for him a lifetime ago._

* * *

  
But this time Eddie knew better. He knew he couldn’t let Richie get away from him again. But he also knew how much he hurt Richie by leaving him. He needed as much space as Eddie had needed all that time ago.

Eddie had been communicating with the man across the street for a few months now and looking back, he should’ve realized that the messages made him laugh in the only way Richie knew how to. He’d fallen in love with Richie’s humor the same way he was starting to fall in love with the man across the street’s small comments.

When Eddie returned from London after managing to get a transfer a few months back, he felt excited to be reunited with Richie. Those months that he was away were agonizing to Eddie, finding his life was missing a piece of it without Richie in it. After their big fight, Eddie decided the best thing for them would be to cut off ties with each other completely. Neither of them made an attempt to contact each other until the day that made him realize how much he truly loved Richie.

_He’d return back home from another day at work, somewhat satisfied with himself as he managed to do his first presentation in front of the CEO who made a surprise visit that day. As he was making dinner, Eddie got a call from an unknown number in California. Eddie picked it up, always hoping to hear a familiar voice on the other line. But, like always, it wasn’t._

_“Hello, am I talking to Eddie Kaspbrak?”_

_“This is he.”_

_“We’re with the Santa Barbara Hospital in California and are calling to let you know that your boyfriend, Richard Tozier, finally woke up and has been asking for you.” Eddie froze, initially confused that he was called but remembering that Richie wouldn’t have remembered to change his emergency contact. But that thought flew out the window when he realized the information they just conveyed to him._

_“W-woke up? What happened to him? You said he was alright?” Eddie couldn’t get all the possibilities of what could’ve happened to Richie out of his head in those few moments the hospital waited to tell him._

_“He’s alright now, but he was brought in because he seemed to have had passed out in the middle of one of his shows yesterday night. A friend of his, a Beverly Marsh, told us to call her when he woke up, which we did, but since he kept insisting for you and you were his primary emergency contact after Ms. Marsh, we saw it fit to inform you.” Eddie nodded, but realizing they couldn’t see him, resumed to speak._

_“Yes yes, the thing is I’m in London at the moment, but I’ll see what I can do.” With that, he left on the first flight back home to Richie, making phone calls right away that would begin his transfer back to California. He knew he had to be there for Richie. No job was as important as his love for him._

_Once he finally made it to the hospital and was given the location of Richie’s room, he approached it slowly. He had picked up a small bear from the gift shop downstairs, knowing it wouldn’t solve anything but would crack some sort of ice. Yet when he finally got the courage to enter the room, he was simultaneously disappointed and relieved to see Richie was asleep._

_Eddie sat down, unable to resist the pull he felt once he saw Richie again for the first time in months. As he set the bear down and held his hand. Richie must have felt it, as that caused him to open his eyes and look at Eddie. He froze, waiting for Richie to pull his hand away or yell at him to leave his room._

_Instead, Richie smiled at him and let out a laugh “Eddie Spaghetti, what a surprise. I thought you were drinkin’ tea and eatin’ crumpets over across the pond.” He said the last part in a terrible English accent which would have annoyed Eddie typically but he couldn’t help but laugh._

_“Yeah, I was until the hospital called to tell me you were asking for me.” Richie tilted his head in confusion but nodded in confirmation._

_“If I knew all I needed to get you back here was a hospital visit, I would’ve broken my arm a few months ago.” Eddie gave him a look that caused Richie to let out a small chuckle of his own._

_“I missed ya, Eds,” Richie said with the same sincerity as the last time they saw each other._

_“I missed you too, Rich.” Eddie squeezed his hand and finally looked into his eyes, trying to convey what he couldn’t so many months ago. “I’m gonna go get a coffee and I’ll come back, yeah?” Richie nodded as his eyes started to close, no doubt being tired, partly from exhaustion and partly from the drugs._

_Eddie’s good mood after that visit did not last long when he returned the next day to see Richie. Before he entered, he heard Richie and another voice, Bev, having a whispered argument. Knowing not to pry but being unable to help himself, he stayed outside of the room, out of sight but within earshot._

_“Bev, you gotta go take Eddie off as my emergency contact. The nurse came in and told me I’ve been asking for Eddie while I’m all drugged up. I can’t have them calling him and making him worry. He didn’t love me enough to stay when I was fine, he won’t come back now that I’m all fucked up.” He heard shuffling and some muffled crying. Before Eddie could go in and tell him everything he said wasn’t true, Richie finished the statement that caused him to stay away all those months. “Besides, he doesn’t want to see me and I definitively don’t want to see him.”_

_Eddie, understanding that Richie didn’t want him in his life anymore, knew that he needed to respect his wishes, so he did._

But now he understood that he needed to fight for their love. He knew that they had something special so worth fighting for. And so he began his plan to attempt to woo Richie Tozier.

* * *

  
Richie was not prepared to see Eddie so soon. He knew the identity of the man in the window since the beginning. At least, subconsciously he did. The person in window 36 brought him the same feeling of comfort he had always associated with Eddie. And the yellow curtains should have given him the biggest clue. He picked them out himself, dammit!

Richie felt many emotions upon seeing Eddie. He was angry because he had left him, sure, but he was also confused and hurt because he came back and didn’t even give him a heads up. He was eventually going to go over and confront him, but he was caught off guard at Mike’s bar. But even with the myriad of emotions that confronted him, the most prevalent emotion was there- love. He’s always been a sucker for Edward Kaspbrak and that fact seemed to have never waiver, even after all that time.

So it was no surprise to anyone when he woke up the next morning, feeling worse than when he went to bed and checked his window in a hopeful attempt to catch a glimpse of a man he thought was all but gone. Yet the curtains weren’t drawn. In fact, the window was wide open, and that only meant one thing to Richie. And he was already out the door.

* * *

Richie knew Eddie lived on the third floor, he just didn’t know which apartment was specifically his. At least, he thought he wouldn’t until he saw the door that was colorfully adorned in sticky notes that spelled out a simple equation.

_R + E_

Before Richie could even knock on the door, Eddie opened it, unknown to Richie that he was waiting by it the whole afternoon in hopes of hearing him (Richie would come to learn that Eddie spooked some neighbors because he would open the door at almost any noise that he would hear).

“Hi.” Richie told him, being unable to bring himself to say much. But Eddie knew what he needed to hear.

“Richie, would you like to come in?”

He nodded and entered the apartment, not knowing what he should say as he looked around the almost bare apartment. 

“So, did you just move in?” Richie asked, not having come up with a better question to fill the silent void. Eddie gave him a look, clearly knowing Richie and him knew he’d moved in 6 months ago. 

“Richie, there’s no need for small talk, you know I hate it.” At that, Richie and his mouth began talking, the one thing Richie was best, and worst, at. 

“Okay, why did you move back? Actually, scratch that, why did you move back and not _tell_ me?” Eddie took a deep breath in. 

“I moved back the second I got the phone call from the hospital after your breakdown. I took the first flight over and while I was waiting to take off told them I needed to transfer back here. I knew I couldn’t leave you after that momentary fear that I lost you.” Richie tried to process the information, but his brain paused as a realization hit him. 

“So it wasn’t a dream. You actually did show up to visit me at the hospital.” Once Eddie gave him a look of confusion, Richie elaborated. “I remembered you showing up while I was all drugged up, but when I asked a nurse if she’d seen you, she shook her head. I just assumed it was a dream caused by me being drugged up. That didn’t help though, since I became all bitter that you hadn’t shown up to see me. I had assumed you either never got the phone call or worse.” Eddie, put his head down. 

“Or worse, thought I didn’t care enough that you were hurt to come see you.” Richie nodded, both men now sitting on opposite sides of the couch and looking down. It was silent after a while, both men trying to process the information they were receiving. 

“I want you to know that I did. I got on the first flight, I stayed in those crappy motels cause I couldn’t get anything else on such short notice, and I bought you some flowers and a bear. I was read to make up for my idiotic choices that lead to both of us being so unhappy. I was ready to tell you everything.” Richie looked next to him, searching in his face to see if the emotions he felt were looking back at him. 

“What was everything?” He asked him, his voices barely audible but still being heard by the man across the couch. Eddie, taking the question as an invitation, scooted closer to Richie. He took a deep breath, trying to find the courage to say what he wanted until he realized he just needed to say what he should’ve a long time ago. He got on his knees and took Richie’s hands hesitantly, waiting for him to rip them away. But Richie didn’t. He kept them in the place that always felt the most like home to him. 

“You’re more important to me than anything. The love we had? No one will ever come close to replicating it. You once told me I was it for you. Well Rich, you’re it for me too. You’re the one for me. I just hope I didn’t fuck it up by going across the globe without even trying to take you with me.” And so, Richie looked at him in the eyes once more and saw it. It was like staring at a mirror. “I love you and I always will. Will you please be willing to give me, give _us_ , another shot?”

_I love you_

Eddie looked at him, concern filling his face as he wasn’t met with any response from the other man. Eddie, concluding that this was a no from the other man, let go of his hands and attempted to get back on his feet. Yet he paused when he heard the sniffling coming from the other man. Before he could ask him if he was okay, Richie looked up to him and cupped his face. 

“Eddie, I’ve never stopped loving you either. Even with all the stupid shit I did to myself, it couldn’t compare to the pure bliss of just being with you caused me. Making a crowd of thousands did not compare to being able to make you laugh with something stupid I did. I love you so much it fucking hurts. It hurts now, even when I know you’re asking me, on your fucking _knees,_ to take you back because I know my life would be incomplete without you in it. So to conclude, of course I’ll take you back, baby. You’re my happy ending, or whatever cheesy metaphor you want me to compare you to.” With that, Richie brought Eddie’s face towards his as both men, crying, embraced. 

Although they hadn’t kissed in almost a year, the men knew there was plenty of time to do that in the future and instead stayed content in the arms of the person they missed the most. Their home. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hoped you liked it! Feel free to tell me your thoughts down below and maybe I can find the time to write my Valentine’s Day (the movie) AU idea with these guys as well.


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